Orfeo

02 May 2012

A new production of Monteverdi's L’Orfeo currently showing at HAU 1 in Berlin is performed on historic instruments by baroque specialist Olof Boman and the Solistenensemble Kaleidoskop. That doesn't mean it's conventional though.

Most parts will be played by trained opera singers. But the title role is taken by Berlin-based singer and performance artist Peaches (whose act Lady Gaga washed, rinsed and ironed before recycling it), and parts of the work have been adapted specially for her. Instruments are amplified and distorted, Peaches raps, and Orfeo's exceptional vocal abilities are displayed using a vocoder.

Here's an interview with Olof Boman and some rehearsal excerpts - count me sold. Why do we never get anything like this in London?

14 August 2007

One of the reasons I suspect Monteverdi's L'Orfeo has lasted 400 years is its resilience to interpretation. It's musically strong, dramatically simple, and many approaches can work. What Jordi Savall and Gilbert Deflo did with this one was to make it as close to the original 17th century experience as possible. (Fugly Edwardian theatre, surtitles, billion watt spotlights, etc aside of course.)

The small orchestra, Le Concert des Nations, was packed with period instruments. The musicians, in a shallow pit, were dressed in period costume right down to their shoes. Most impressive of all was conductor Jordi Savall himself, tall, grave and bearded. When the orchestra's on display, why not make it part of the show?

The staging itself, intentionally old-fashioned, framed the action in simple flat board sets and a minimum of gesture and movement. The costumes were simple and beautiful, fortuny-pleated gowns in Botticelli shades all round, the carefully selected colours denoting each character.

It was closer to Robert Wilson's spare mannered style more than a typical 'period' production. Especially as it wasn't in slavish thrall to the past - a couple of effective anachronisms were the lavish dry ice that formed the fires of Hades and the silvery mirrored balloon-skin panels that served as opening and closing curtain. You can't really see it in this pic, but the panels rippled and trembled like a pool of water, v.21st C:

The musical side of the performance was more of a mixed bag. Furio Zanasi was a commanding and dignified Orfeo who could have slotted into any production of this opera. Others had problems of intonation, projection and tone here and there. And the period instruments used, by their very nature, render a variety of timbres rather than an immaculate monolithic sound. But although enthusiasm was more to the fore than clipped precision, it was by no means a disaster, and in some ways seemed an appropriate effect for this rather intimate production.

Earlier in the day I saw more Jordi Savall, this time his solo viola da gamba recital at the Queen's Hall.

When Jordi Savall wanted to learn the viola da gamba in the 1960's, it was so obscure he initially had to teach himself. The fact that it's no longer a novelty is largely down to his efforts. In this programme, as much as showcase for the instrument itself as for the performer, he showed just how many different ways the viola da gamba can be played.

A Bach cello Bourée re-arranged for pizzicato viola da gamba by Savall himself displayed the instrument's resonant, guitar-like tone. In Tobias Hume's Musicall Humours he reproduced a drum sound withleft hand pizzicato. Needless to say the virtuosity required to pull all this off was staggering.

A range of tunings was used, and the re-tuning between pieces was completed with amazing speed and precision, Savall sometimes needing only a single turn of the peg to get it spot-on (OK, not part of the performance, but anyone who's ever played a string instrument will recognise the achievement here).

The recital ended with a suite of pieces in 'bagpipe' tuning, where the middle two strings are tuned an octave apart and act like bagpipe drones. Savall explained that these pieces had come down to us only in tablature, so it wasn't really clear how they'd been played originally. He'd reconstructed them after studying traditional music from places like Ireland and Norway. Again, a stunning display of virtuosity, and yet another completely different range of sounds pulled from this one seemingly simple instrument.

Afterwards I felt like rushing out to buy a viola da gamba, but instead I ducked out of the rain into Fabhatrix in Grassmarket, birthplace of some loud but functional crafty-style felt hats, perfect for the unpredictable Edinburgh weather, and what's more, made of eco-friendly recycled fabrics.

Tuesday's soirée française offers a rare tenor rendition of Berlioz's Les nuits d’été from Toby Spence, plus a chance to re-evaluate the Three Studies after Couperin by Thomas Adès premiered earlier this year in London.

Sadly I'm not staying around for long enough to catch the Tiger Lillies Monteverdi tribute concert on 25 August. No news yet on exactly what they're going to do, but armed with their habitual countertenor, musical saw and toy drumkit I'm guessing they won't be drafting in Nikolaus Harnoncourt to conduct.